“What, James? What? You gonna tell me everything is okay? Because it’s not. I set the wheels in motion. Addison is dead because of me. Rocky almost died, because of me. Tango’s mother is dead because of me. If my father had succeeded in killing Slade? Yeah, that would be on me, too.”
“I’ll fucking destroy you,” Tango’s angry voice boomed.
Jesus H. Christ. Shittiest day ever. Tango had heard everything. I didn’t turn to look. I knew what was about to go down—well-deserved retribution. I steeled my spine, waiting for the first strike.
James fell against the truck, struck hard by my admission. Good. He needed to know the kind of scum he was dealing with.
I turned to face Tango’s wrath, but a heavy hand clamped my shoulder.
“Dane.” James’s voice hovered, weak and strained.
His hand slipped from my shoulder, and his body fell against mine before slamming to the ground.
# # #
“Dane.” Moriah sighed. “I’m so glad you called. I hated driving away without saying goodbye.”
“Where are you right now?”
“We’re on the freeway. Almost to the airport exit.”
“Tell Lettie to pull over. Right now.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s James. Gonna need you to take over driving. Turn around and head back to town.”
“I don’t under—”
“No time to explain,” I interrupted. “When Lettie’s in the passenger seat, give her the phone.”
I waited, listening while Moriah gave Lettie instructions. I heard the car doors slam, heavy breathing, worried questions.
“Okay. I’m behind the wheel. What’s going on?”
“Give Lettie the phone.”
“Dane?”
“Do it!” I snapped, nerves stretched to the breaking point.
Lettie’s voice came through, shaky and high-pitched. “What’s happening?”
Heart in my fucking throat, I gave Lettie the lowdown, explained that James was on his way to Whisper Springs Medical Center, that Tucker was in the ambulance with him, and everyone else had followed behind.
“We’re on our way,” Lettie cried before the phone went dead, leaving me alone with the truck, and the silence, and the God damn crushing weight on my chest.
Suppose that would’ve been a good time for me to make my exit. Give the man a heart attack, then disappear.
I looked around the massive garage, bent to retrieve the tools left on the ground, then fell on my ass, adrenaline draining, brain a jumbled mess.
Hours later, I’d moved from the ground to the front seat of the old beater. I’d tinkered with the stereo. Polished the vinyl. Washed the windows.
Lettie’s car rolled up the long driveway just as I headed back to the house. My feet planted to the gravel. Moriah hopped down from behind the wheel. Rocky and Mim followed behind.
The kids dashed off to the tree swing. Moriah came my way, her steps measured, her eyes red, her hair a beautiful, windblown mess.
“How is he?” I asked, the words sticking at the back of my throat.
“Not sure. He’s in surgery. I… ” She looked down at her feet. Wiped under her eyes. Took two long breaths. “I didn’t feel right being at the hospital. It’s a family thing, you know?” She looked over her shoulder at the kids, a sad smile breaking through. “I thought it’d be easier for everyone if I brought them back here.”
Fuck, the woman was selfless. I couldn’t stop from pulling her against my chest. She didn’t cry, but she trembled, her arms tightening around my waist, her face buried in my filthy shirt, and God damn how I wanted to make everything better.
“You missed your flight.”
“Yeah. We missed our flight.”
We stood in silence, wrapped around each other. I wasn’t a hugger. I was a fuck ’em hard and get away kind of guy. So why did our embrace feel so necessary, so right?
“You didn’t say goodbye,” she mumbled into my chest.
Right. Fuck ’em hard and get away.
I dropped my arms and stepped back. “I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
She stared up at me with those huge, curious eyes, not a lick of judgement in them, only raw honesty, and I could’ve warned her away. I could’ve let the bitter, angry asshole loose, scared the shit out of her, so that when she did go back home, she’d go knowing she’d dodged a bullet, because being with a guy like me was dangerous, deadly even. But something held me back. Something in my chest—unfamiliar and uncomfortable.
“I didn’t say goodbye, because I didn’t trust myself not to fall to my knees and beg you to stay. I didn’t trust myself not to pin you to the wall last night and fuck you into compliance. Didn’t trust myself not to throw you into that damn truck and disappear, hide you away in a cabin in the mountains, and keep you locked up, so you’d be mine and I’d never have to share you.”
Moriah opened her mouth to speak, but Rocky yelled, “Hey! We’re hungry. What’s for lunch?”
She held my gaze, her eyes full of questions, her jaw still slack, on the verge of blurting a rejection that would kill me, no doubt. Because a woman like Moriah would never consider a future with a dirty, dangerous criminal.
I took advantage of her hesitation, taking away her opportunity for rebuff, and turned toward the kids. “Pizza sound good? How about we head into town, get some Pete’s Famous Pizza.”
Rocky yelled, “Yay! Pizza!”
I turned to Moriah still silent, still staring.
“I’m gonna go clean up. Be down in ten.” I retreated, jogging toward the house, leaving no room for deeper contemplation.
We’d eat. We’d keep the kids busy. I’d get more time with Moriah before we both had to disappear.
# # #
“My grandpa is really sick,” Rocky blurted, after his third slice of pepperoni.
The kid had been unusually quiet and sluggish during our ride into town. Fuckin’ killed me, that sad expression he wore.
And Mim? Hell, that little angel scooted closer to her buddy, touched his cheek as if testing for tears, then leaned her head on his shoulder like she was put on Earth to be his comfort.
Moriah shot me a sideways glance, one brow raised in surprise, then cleared her throat. “Well, Rocky. The doctors are trying hard to help him right now. And your mom said she’d call us as soon as they know how he’s doing.”
“He’s strong, buddy. He’s stubborn, too.” I couldn’t help myself. I leaned over the table and whispered in his ear. “Maybe he did it on purpose, because he didn’t want Mim to leave yet.”
Rocky laughed, snorting. “Yeah. Grandpa would be crazy like that.”
The smiles returned. We finished lunch. Stopped at the city park on the way home. Then drove back to the mansion.
Rocky grabbed Mim’s hand the second we cleared the door. “Can we go to Mim’s room and make Grandpa a card?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Moriah sighed, breathless and clearly weary.
“I’ll head up with them. You must have a ton of calls to make.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I need to reschedule my flight.” She turned and headed up the stairs. “Call my job contacts. Mom’s attorney…”
I followed, mostly ignoring her checklist, until I heard, “Call Matthew back.”
I’d have been less surprised, or crushed, if she’d dropped a jet engine on my head.
She jumped when I clamped a hand around her waist, then shivered when I pulled her against me. “What was that you just said?”
“Matthew finally called. Said he wants to talk.”
“You told him to fuck off, right?”
Moriah wiggled in my arms, enough to let me know she wasn’t about to take my shit, but not enough to make me let go. “Of course not.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Why would I?” She lifted her chin. “I’m not taking him back, if that’s what you think, but closure would be nice.”
“Closure for what? You gave hi
m the only closure he deserves that night we met in the bar.”
“Well. Yes. I suppose you’re right. I mean. Sure. I ended things. I meant it, too. But he deserves to know why.”
“No. No he doesn’t. He let you go. End of story. He can’t figure out why you gave him the boot, that’s on him. Not your responsibility. I mean, seriously, you’ve been here how long, and he only now calls?”
“Dane.”
“The guy’s a fuckin’ douche, you ask me.”
“Dane.”
“What kind of prick lets his woman fly clear across the country days after she’s lost her mother, to hang out with a bunch of strangers, and bring home a child that may or may not be the daughter of her long-lost sister. The sister she only just found out was dead.”
“Dane.”
“I get my hands on the pathetic piece of shit, I’ll—”
Smack. Moriah landed a hard whack across my cheek, effectively ending my tirade, unwittingly stirring my blood.
I glared at the wall over her head and counted, one, two, three before aiming my ire her way, preparing to warn her of all the reasons striking me was dangerous.
Before I could speak, the little minx grabbed my shirt, lifted up on her toes, and short circuited my brain with a punishing kiss. She pulled away for a brief moment, said, “I like you, too, Dane,” then attacked again.
I like you, too. That’s what she got out of my tirade? I grabbed her waist and spun, pinning her to the wall. Then I took control, showed her how dangerous I could be, biting, sucking, pinching, groping, dry humping her against the wall. And fuuuck, she took my advances like a champ.
Giggles came from the top of the stairs and I dropped Moriah like a hot potato. One deep breath and I looked over my shoulder.
Rocky and Mim stared down at us, bright smiles, and belly laughs, and hell if my face didn’t heat like an overworked engine.
“Shoot.” Moriah mumbled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Shoot.”
I looked down at her bright eyes, those red cheeks, those swollen lips, and hell if I didn’t laugh, too.
“Busted,” I whispered, claiming her hand and dragging her to the top of the stairs.
She headed toward Mim’s room, but I grabbed her shoulders and aimed her the opposite direction. “Go do what you gotta do. I’ll hang with the kids.”
With a nod, she turned. Stopped. Whipped around to face me again. “We need to talk about what just happened.”
“We need to talk about you staying in Whisper Springs.”
“You know I can’t.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I nudged her toward her door, smacked her ass, then joined the kids in Mim’s room, making myself comfortable on the bed while they dug paper and crayons out of the closet and set them up on the small table.
When I’d had a moment to clear my head, I yanked my cell out of my pocket, pulled up a number I wasn’t supposed to have, and hoped to God the man would answer.
“Carlos Rossi speaking.”
“Time to pay the piper, old man.
# # #
The kids had just finished a cartoon marathon when footsteps fell heavy in the hallway. Tango pushed through the door, his fiery red eyes meeting mine. His glare was not one of anger, though. The guy looked damn near defeated.
I didn’t have to ask. The fact he’d come alone, and he wasn’t kicking my ass, told me everything I needed to know.
Fuck.
Moriah sat up straight, then started to stand, but Tango stopped her with a head shake. He stepped closer to his son, cleared his throat. Blinked. Cleared it again, then, voice hoarse, he whispered, “Hey, Rockster. I need you to come with me, buddy.”
“Dad!” Rocky yelled, jumping off the bed and into his father’s arms, wrapping around him like a monkey hitching a ride. That was all it took for Tango to lose his shit. He buried his face in Rocky’s neck and sobbed.
Rocky squeezed his dad tighter, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t envy that man. How the fuck did you tell your kid his grandpa had just died?
Father and son left the room. Mim watched them leave, then looked at me with a worried expression. Moriah joined Mim on the bed, and while she started to explain, I followed Tango, hanging back out of respect.
Downstairs, Tucker and Aida followed Lettie into her room, her face a ghostly white, her expression blank.
Tango carried his son to the main living room, where Slade waited. The three of them huddled together. Not a chance in hell I was gonna stick around for that show. The kid would be devastated. I couldn’t watch while his parents broke his heart.
I turned to leave, made it to the kitchen, when I heard Rocky scream, “No, Daddy. Not Grandpa. No!”
My knees buckled, the weight of his emotion a kick in the gut.
James was gone.
One of the good guys.
Tucker’s daughter started to cry, her wails carrying down the hall. I rinsed my face in the kitchen sink, grabbed one of the baby’s bottles out the fridge, and made my way back to Lettie’s room. Aida struggled with her daughter, who was clearly not happy with all the negative vibes, and although I wasn’t family, although I did not belong in that mansion, I could not watch them struggle and do nothing.
I cleared my throat, catching Tucker’s attention, held up the bottle, and gestured to the baby. Aida shot me glare. Tucker whispered something in her ear, and Aida passed over her daughter. Fuck me, that little angel smelled sweet, like innocence, and I hoped to God nobody noticed my deep inhale.
“We’ll be upstairs,” I said.
Tucker nodded in thanks, and I left them to their grief.
The baby cried and fidgeted in my arms all the way back to Mim’s room, but the moment I set her on the bed next to the girls, she quieted, hiccupped, then crawled into Mim’s lap, snatching the book out of her hand.
Mim smiled.
Moriah smiled.
Jesus. Fuck. Those ladies had my guts all twisted.
My chest collapsed, that large muscle inside crumbling into large, sharp chunks. The room shrank around me. I handed Moriah the bottle, trusting she knew what to do. “You good if I disappear for a bit?”
She tilted her head, her hair falling over her shoulder, soft and touchable. “You okay?”
My throat clogged. I nodded. “Need to get some air.”
“We’re good here.”
I left through the back hallway, avoiding the grief-stricken family, and made my way to the garage. I kicked at the dirt where James had fallen, where I’d pumped his chest, waiting for the ambulance to arrive. Where I’d begged him not to give up. Not to die.
A socket wrench lay by the front tire, taunting me. I scooped the tool off the ground and whacked my head on the rear-view mirror on the way up.
“Fuck!” That shit hurt. But that blast of pain was what I needed. The fuse lit. I screamed at the truck. Threw two punches at the door, then attacked the hood with the wrench. I beat that old beater to shit, cursing the damn thing, giving her the brunt of all my rage.
When I couldn’t lift my arms for another strike, or pull in a full breath, I dropped my ass to the ground, scooted under the engine, and continued where I’d left off, fixing that damn engine, like I’d promised James I would.
“Damn allergies,” I mumbled, blinking the moisture from my eyes.
Moriah
I swiped the moisture from my eyes. “I need a couple of days to consider your offer.” Blink. Blink. I would not cry.
“Take as much time as you need. We look forward to hearing from you.”
“Thank you.” I hoped to God the nice woman couldn’t hear the tremble in my voice.
I pushed the little red button on my phone, my thumb bending at an odd angle with the force of pressure. One deep breath. Then another. “What the actual eff?” I asked no one, tossing my cell on the bed.
Mim bounced out of the bathroom, hairbrush in hand, and bee-lined to her suitcase.
Slumping int
o the chair, I bent to grab my shoes, then stared at the floor, my mind a swirling vortex of hows, whys, and what-ifs.
A job offer. Monday through Friday. 401k. Full benefits. Starting salary? Twice what I made last year.
“What the eff?” I mumbled again, slumped forward, elbows to knees, face in my palms. The offer was beyond perfect.
Problem was, the job was not in Shelbyville. The job was in Whisper Springs with the Rossi Corporation. I hadn’t applied to any jobs outside of Shelbyville. Meaning, one of the Slades or the Rossis were responsible. I mean, seriously, who offers someone a job sight unseen?
Too good to be true? Without a doubt. Was I foolish to consider the offer? Ugh. How could I make a rational decision considering the upheaval I’d already faced?
Or could I? Could I? How could I?
No. No. I needed to get Mim home and settled. Then I could think straight. Make the right decision for both of us.
Right. Home. Why did that word sound so foreign? Taste so bitter?
“Ready, Little Lady?” I asked, shoving my feet into my Vans and pushing to stand.
Mim didn’t look up, but she nodded, then pulled the handle on her mini suitcase and dragged it toward the door, her hair bouncing in defiant waves, her chin held high and brave.
I glanced around the room, checking for any items we might have left behind, then grabbed my own luggage and headed out, down the long hallway, then the stairs, out the back door, and around to the front of the house, where the yellow cab waited.
Purposely avoiding the family, knowing they were in no mindset for goodbyes, I left a letter of condolence on the kitchen counter, knowing that would be sufficient considering the circumstances. The family needed their privacy to grieve.
I had also slipped a note under Dane’s door, explaining I thought it better to avoid putting Mim through another round of farewells. So, everything wrapped up, I buckled my niece in the cab, tucked our things in the trunk, then rounded the car to settle in for the long drive to the airport.
I reached out to pull the door closed.
“What the fuck, Moriah?” Dane grabbed my hand and yanked me out of my seat, slamming the door behind me. “Seriously?” He held up the handwritten letter, shaking the paper in my face. “This is what I get? A note? A dear fucking John letter?”
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